The Lost Girl
by RayneeDaze
Summary: When a girl becomes trapped in Neverland, she quickly learns that if she wants to survive, she'll need to rely on her resourcefulness, imagination, and a killer instinct she never knew she had.
1. Chapter 1

"We have to split up-"

"No!" the girl cried.

"It's the only way." The boy put his hand against the girl's cheek. His chest rose and fell as he gulped in the air around them. They had been running for hours, almost from the moment they landed in Neverland.

"You know I'm right. If we split up, they have to split up. It's our best chance. It's your best chance. The Lost Boys don't want you – they want me." His blue eyes pleaded with her.

"How am I going to survive out there, I don't have anything, I don't – "

"Take this." The boy handed the girl a large knife. In the distance, they heard rustling and voices calling out. "Take this and run!"

The boy turned and bolted off into the woods. All the girl could do was watch as he disappeared into the shadows. She may have stood there forever, knife in one hand, satchel in the other, wondering how it had all gone so wrong so quickly. But then she heard more voices and remembered – Lost Boys. She tossed the satchel over her shoulder, tucked the knife into her belt and ran, alone, in the unknown.

* * *

><p>Hours had passed - hours of roaming through the dark woods, listening for every creaking sound, every breaking branch. The girl had hoped she might see her boy again, or find some kind of civilization, some kind of help. Neverland couldn't just be filled with Lost Boys, could it? But the woods seemed dark and endless. The only help it offered were dark shadows looming all around, like panthers ready to pounce. And now that the sun had set, the forest was even darker - just one, long, never-ending shadow. The only bright side the girl could see was that there had been no sign of any Lost Boys for quite some time.<p>

"I guess you were right," she muttered. "They were after you."

The Neverland woods were hard enough to navigate during the day but traversing them at night seemed almost impossible. If it weren't for the almost full moon overhead, there would be no light at all. The girl needed a place to rest. She hadn't eaten since coming to the island and if things were going to go on like this, she needed a plan. She hadn't allowed herself to think it before, but the night has a way of drawing out darker truths and this was hers: she wasn't getting home without a fight. And if she lost that fight, she may never get home.

And almost as if she had wished it, just up the path, she saw a cave, perfectly framed by the moonlight. The girl drew her knife and headed inside, pushing aside a cascade of vines obscuring the entrance.

Only the faintest bit of moonlight filtered into the cave. The girl squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but she was almost certain - yes. This was an empty cave. For the first time, the girl allowed her exhaustion to overcome her and she collapsed on the ground. As the adrenaline flowed out of her system, she began to feel things almost normally again – the grainy dirt of the cavern floor, the grumble of her stomach, the chill of the night air. But she had nothing to sleep on, nothing to eat, nothing to keep her warm. The girl thought of her mother. When she was little and living in her family's small hut, the winter would turn bitter and cold, especially at night. During the coldest nights, her mother would wrap her in buffalo skins and hold her close. She would tell the girl to imagine a great big, beautiful fire reaching into the night sky. Her mother used to say that sometimes, if the girl believed as hard as she could, she might be able to catch a little bit of warmth from an imaginary fire.

So the girl closed her eyes and imagined a warm fire in the middle of the cave, like the fires she would imagine on those cold nights long ago. She imagined the flames, bright orange and yellow, casting shadows on the walls of the cave. She imagined smelling the faint smoke of burning wood and the soft crackling of the flames. And then - mmm, chicken! Roast chicken, like the kind the settlers would make! The smell of smoke and roast chicken began to tingle her nose. As she lay on the floor of the cave, imagining fire and chicken, the warmth and the smell became so thick that she could swear –

The girl opened her eyes and her mouth dropped. There, in the center of the cave was a magnificent fire, dancing, flickering – real. And beside it was a plate of roast chicken. "What – what kind of place is this?" the girl whispered. Her stomach gave a long, low growl. Right now, the girl thought, is not the time for answers. She crawled over to the fire and chicken and began to eat.

* * *

><p>Just outside the cave, a boy leaned against a tree. He wasn't her boy – oh no. This boy was part of the island. He could feel the girl's belief, her imagination pulsating in tune with Neverland's magic. Most of his Boys couldn't even manage to believe a spark into existence even after years in Neverland, much less a fire and a meal. He smiled to himself. She would do – she would do quite well.<p>

But the game was only beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, love – where are you taking us?" Hook walked behind Tinkerbell, his swagger slightly off kilter, half-empty rum bottle in one hand. The Dark Forest loomed above and around them like an ocean of gnarled and knotted pine.

"Not very far if you keep at it with that bottle," Tink replied. "We're going to my place to bunk up for the night. It's almost dark."

"How can you tell?" Smee looked up at the trees which obscured the sky. His vision was still a little blurry from a few hours earlier, when the former fairy had knocked him out.

"Well, for starters, I'm not half drunk," Tink said. More quietly, she added, "And I live here. For far too long."

Hook smiled and took another drink, before throwing his arms out. "Ah come on now, love. Don't be like that. You could leave if you wanted to."

Tink swirled around and faced the pirates, her knife out on instinct.

"You think it's easy to leave Neverland? You think you can just get back in your ship and sail away?"

Hook shrugged his shoulders. "We got in well enough. There's got to be a way to get back out and quickly. I've got a score to settle with Rumplestiltskin."

Tink smiled sardonically and shook her head. "No one leaves Neverland without _his_ permission."

"Who's permission?" Smee asked.

By now the party of three had stopped walking.

"The boy's," Hook replied, still staring at Tink. Perhaps it was the drink or perhaps it was the danger, but he was beginning to grow fond of this feisty, stranded fairy. He'd had many women in his time, but they had all been regular women. Even his Mila.

"If by boy you mean Pan, then yes. You're right. No one leaves without Pan's permission. And he hasn't let anyone off of this island in a very long time. How do you know him anyway?" Tink looked Hook up and down.

Hook took another long drink, almost emptying the rum bottle. His eyes wandered off and a shadow came over his face

"This isn't my first time in Neverland. I was here once, many years ago. I met your Pan then. He…" Hook's voice trailed off and for a few moments the group listened as the silence of the Dark Forest buzzed around them. "Well, let's just say that when I did leave, I never thought I'd be coming back."

Tink nodded as Smee looked on, brow furrowed.

"Better get moving," Tink said. "We really don't want to be out in the dark."

The trio walked another half hour before arriving at Tink's tree house. The place was small, utilitarian. There was a chair in the corner, a hammock in the middle and not much else. Moonlight shone through the windows.

"One of you can take the chair and the other can sleep on the floor. Or you can both sleep on the floor – I really don't care. But the hammock's mine," Tink told her guests.

"Fair enough," Hook said, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs unceremoniously.

Smee cast him a rueful look that went unnoticed before plopping onto the floor. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan?" Tink asked.

"For getting off this island. We've got to go see this Pan, I presume?" Smee looked back and forth between Hook and Tink. It was clear from his expression that he thought getting out of Neverland involved a brief hike through the woods and some small talk.

"We?" Tink asked incredulously. "No, not _we_. Pan and his boys usually intercept everyone who lands on this island. But not you. And there's got to be a reason for that."

Hook raised an eyebrow. "Well, we do have a history," he replied, looking out the window, that shadow crossing his face again.

"Maybe. But he wants you to come to him. Pan _knows_ you need him. And I, for one, won't be having any part in that."

Hook redirected his gaze toward Tinkerbell. "You're really afraid of him, aren't you, love?" He teased.

"Yes, I am," Tink replied without hesistation. "And if you knew him the way you think you do, you'd be afraid too."

Smee looked back and forth between the pirate and fairy. "What's so scary about a boy?"

Tink looked down on the squat little man, half wishing she'd left him in the Dark Forest for the Lost Boys to find.

"He's not just any boy," she finally said.

"So when the sun comes up tomorrow," Hook mused, "you're just going to let us off into the forest on our own to deal with Pan."

This time it was Tink who shrugged her shoulders.  
>"I don't know what his plans are for you, and I don't want to get on his bad side. So yes, after tonight, you're on your own."<p>

Hook pulled another bottle of rum from out of his jacket.

"Cheers then, love. Here's to tomorrow." Hook unscrewed the bottle cap and took another long drink.

Tink turned away from the pirate. As drunk and insufferable as he was, she couldn't deny that there was some charm about the man. It was nice to finally talk to an adult after all this time. And maybe it was her old, misguided fairy instincts, but even though he was a pirate on a revenge mission, she thought she sensed some good left in him. Tink turned back around.

"There might be someone who can help."

Hook and Smee both looked up at her.

"There's a girl on the island," Tink said. "She's been here longer than me. She knows the island well," Tink paused for a moment and then added, "And she knows Pan."

Hook and Smee exchanged glances.

"What do you mean, 'she knows Pan?' Will he listen to her?" Hook asked, leaning forward in the chair.

"She -," Tink paused for a moment and then sighed. "She knows Pan. It's complicated." Hook could tell that the fairy knew more than she was willing to offer. But now was not the time to press for information.

Tink continued. "But if anyone has a chance at making Pan listen, it's her."

"And she'll help?" Smee asked.

"That's one possibility."

"And what's the other possibility?" Hooked asked.

"She might kill you."

Hook chuckled and took another drink. "Sounds about right for Neverland," he said. "And what do they call this girl who could save us or kill us, depending on - well, we don't know what?"

Tink put her hands on her hips and glanced out the window before looking back at the two pirates.

"They call her Tiger Lily."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning whisked into Neverland like a mother ushering her children out of bed. The remnants of the fire the girl had imagined up the night before lay smoldering in the middle of the cave. Of the roast chicken, only bones remained.

For a while, the girl sat quietly, contemplating the idea of staying in the cave forever. There was comfort tucked into the walls of the snug space. She could create food and fire every night. She pretended she would never have to face the jungle again: no looming shadows, no wild boars, no Lost Boys with their arrows and pocket knives. It would be a dark and lonely existence, but she could survive.

However, the girl knew it wasn't a feasible plan. If she stayed in the cave, the Lost Boys would find her. And that would be it. There was no way out. And the girl didn't want to just survive – she wanted to go home. And she wanted to go home with him. Which meant that she had to find him.

"And the only way I'm doing that," she said aloud, to no one in particular, "is by getting out of this cave.

The girl gathered up her long black hair and plaited it into a braid. She picked up her knife. At the entrance of the cave, she stopped and looked back. And then she faced the jungle.

"We're going home, Jamik. We're going home together."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until around midday that she heard the rustling and the voices.<p>

The girl dived behind a tall fern and watched quietly as a group of boys approached. One of them whistled, while the other two spoke.

"Pan will be pleased. So far, it's working out just as he planned," one boy said.

"Of course it is," another voice replied, this one more authoritative than the first. "Pan never fails. You know that."

As the hooded figures came closer, the girl heard the sound of something being dragged. She peered through the fronds as the boys walked by. The whistler was out front and behind him, two the boys were carrying another. His clothes had been ripped. There was blood on his blonde hair and bruises all over his arms and legs. His bare feet were dragging across the ground as the two boys on either side held up his limp body.

The girl's eyes widened. They had caught Jamik. Wherever they were taking him, she had to follow. But she couldn't get caught. If both she and Jamik were caught – well, the girl didn't want to think about that. Suddenly, every breath she exhaled felt like it escaped from her lungs with the force of a windstorm.

The boys disappeared behind a bend in the path, and the girl followed, keeping them in earshot. It was easy with the whistler leading the way. The hard part was navigating the forest floor without being detected. Every broken twig, every crushed leaf felt like an announcement of her presence. And even though the girl had to focus on the group of boys in front of her, she knew that there could easily be another group just behind her. So she moved carefully, stealthily, along the forest floor. The girl began to think of it as hunting. Her father had taken her out on many expeditions. She had been his only child, and while others in their village had held fast to the old traditions of women weaving, tending crops and preparing food, her father had taught her how to hunt – how to scour the forest silently, bow and arrow in hand. Oh, how she wished she had her bow and arrow now – she could pick off these Lost Boys one by one, gather Jamik and bring him back to the cave.

And then the forest opened up into a clearing. Rudimentary tents and makeshift beds surrounded an unlit hearth. Sunlight dappled down between the trees. More Lost Boys milled around camp. There must have been ten, fifteen of them, at most.

The girl stayed at the edge of the camp, obscured from view by the brush. She watched as the two boys carrying Jamik threw him down in the center. He hit the ground with a thud and the boys cheered and laughed. One rushed in with a giant bucket and poured water over his body. Jamik began to moan and stir. The Lost Boys laughed even harder. The girl felt a simmering rage begin to boil in her stomach, like a geyser about to spout.

"Having trouble?" One boy asked Jamik, mockingly, before kicking him in his side. Jamik collapsed back down to the ground.

More laughter.

"Maybe he just needs a hand," another boy suggested. He turned Jamik over, straddled him and punched him in the stomach.

Cheers.

"Now, now," a tall, dark-haired boy approached. The girl recognized his voice as the authoritative one from when she tracked them earlier. "We don't want to make our guest feel unwelcomed."

And that's when the girl saw him. A Lost Boy, fourteen – maybe a small fifteen or a big thirteen – standing just feet away from her. His back was turned to her, but she could tell from his body language that he was watching the show with glee.

The dark-haired boy pick Jamik up by the scruff of his shirt. Jamik's arms fell limply at his side. The boy drew back his fist, but before he could land the blow, the girl's rage boiled over.

"STOP!" she screamed, grabbing the younger boy in one swift movement. She held the boy tightly to her chest, her forearm pressed into his neck, one leg wrapped around one of his. In her free arm, she held up her knife. The boy struggled, but the girl had years of experience wrestling the village boys – this one was no match for her.

"Let him go!" she yelled, and held the knife up to the boy's neck, "Or I'll kill him."

The Lost Boys stood in stunned silence for several seconds. Even Jamik found the strength to turn and face the girl while still lying on the ground, his mouth slightly agape.

Finally, the dark-haired boy spoke.

"Well, well. Pan was right. Capture the boy and the girl will come." He turned to the other boys. "What do I always tell you – Pan never fails!"

And with that, the boys cheered.

The boy turned back to the girl. "I'm Rufio," he said. "Tell me your name girl."

"Nothing you could pronounce, boy," the girl replied. She would not give these boys the satisfaction of her name.

Rufio smiled. "Put the knife down, little lady and let Cyrus go. I promise, we won't hurt you."

"Then you lie," the girl tightened her grip on Cyrus and pressed her knife into the skin of his neck.

"Alright, let's try something else," Rufio said, his eyes darkening. "Let him go or things will get much worse for your boyfriend."

The girl cast her eyes onto Jamik, who was beginning to sit up. Her heart pounded and her insides churned like a hurricane. She wanted to believe so badly that she could let this boy go and they would let her and Jamik walk away. But a quiet voice inside of her told her that simply was not true.

"No!" she said. "You let him go and then you have your boy back."

Rufio smirked. "Fine. Have it your way."

He turned around and for a moment, all was still. But then a black form whooshed over the girl's head and headed straight for Jamik. The shadow threw itself on top of Jamik and began ripping his shadow from his body. Jamik fell to the ground writhing, screaming, unable to fight it off. The girl stood cemented to the ground, her eyes wide with terror.

"NO! NO!" she yelled. But it was too late. With one final rip, the dark form carried Jamik's shadow off into the sky and Jamik lay motionless on the forest floor.

"We play games here, girl," Rufio said. "But not the kind you can win. Now let Cyrus go. And don't bother running. You're the one Pan wants – we're going to make sure he gets you."

The girl's eyes were wet and her entire body shook with fear and rage at the sight of Jamik's lifeless body just feet away. How could she go back, having lost him? How could she look his mother in the eye and explain that her son had had his very life force ripped from him before her eyes while she did nothing – nothing to protect him, to avenge him.

A fire began to burn in the girl's eyes. She tightened her grip on the boy in arms, pressed the deep into the side of his neck and ripped the skin open as she dragged the knife to the other side. Blood poured down his front and onto her arm. He tried gasping for breath in those last few moments, but there was little to be had. He fell to his knees and then forward onto his face. Blood pooled around him and his body quivered until all the life had drained out of him.

The girl stared down Rufio and the other Lost Boys, splattered with Cyrus's blood. There were no laughs, no cheers – just frightened faces. For the first time since she'd arrived on the island, these Lost Boys looked just like that – lost boys. She pointed her knife at Rufio.

"You tell Pan that if he wants me, he can come and claim me."

The girl turned away and walked back into the woods. No one followed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Was it really necessary to get up this early?" Hooked asked, swatting a fly away from his face before taking another swig of rum.

"Yes," Tink said matter-of-factly. "I told you – Tiger Lily can be hard to track, but lately she's been down by the lake in the mornings. You said you wanted off this island? Well, she's your best chance. And the sooner you can convince you to help her, the better off you'll be."

Tink paused for a moment before adding, "And the sooner I can be rid of you, the better off I'll be."

"Ah, come on now love – don't tell me you haven't enjoyed our time together," Hook smiled. A returning smile began to form on Tink's lips until a loud belch stopped it in its tracks.

"A side effect of morning rum!" Hook declared. But Tink had already rolled her eyes and marched on.

Smee was a few paces behind Hook, struggling to keep up his pace.

"How much longer?" he asked stopping to put his hands on his knees and catch his breath. But neither Hook nor Tink bothered to answer.

After several more minutes of tramping through the brush, the forest opened up to show a small, shimmering lake. Orange flowers grew in clusters near the shoreline and lily pads dotted the surface. As Tink and Hook gazed at the small slice of beauty that suddenly confronted them, an exhausted Smee finally caught up to his traveling companions.

"This is it," Tink said. "She's around here somewhere, so keep your eyes and ears open."

"Could we call out to her?" Hooked asked.

"Wouldn't do us any good," Tink responded. "It's likely she already knows we're here." Tink began to gaze up into the tree branches above their heads and Hook followed her lead.

"Guys," Smee called out.

"Shhh," Tink ordered, without bothering to look back at him. "You don't know who could be lurking around. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves if we can help it."

"But guys!" Smee called out again.

"Smee, if the lady tells you to shut up, then shut up," Hook reprimanded. "Tiger Lily's around here somewhere. We want to find her, not risk our chances with any Lost Boys."

"We don't need to find her," Smee replied. "She's already found us."

Tink and Hook whipped around at the same time. A few paces back, there was Smee, held in a choke hold by a girl much smaller than him, but armed with a large knife that she held at his throat.

"Ms. Tiger Lily, I presume," Hook said, giving the girl a slight nod. She had long, thick, straight black hair and pale olive skin. Her cheekbones were regally high and her lips were shaped like a perfect Cupid's bow. But it was her eyes that arrested Hook. They were large and almond shaped, framed by impossibly long, black lashed. They were neither brown, nor blue, nor hazel, but rather pure golden through and through, like molten copper mixed with equal parts resolve and sadness.

"Who are you?" Tiger Lily asked. "And what are you doing here?" Neither her intensity nor her arms dropped.

Hook exchanged glances with Tink, who whispered, "Tell her," quite urgently. So Hook began his story. He told Tiger Lily about Mila. He told her about how the Dark One – Rumplestiltskin – had murdered Mila, taken his hand, and how his quest for vengeance had led him to Neverland. As he spoke, Tiger Lily listened intently. When Hook began to talk about meeting Baelfire, she interrupted.

"Baelfire? The new boy they just brought in?"

"Yes," Hook said, a little surprised. "How do you know about that?"

"I keep watch," she replied. "So he's Rumplestiltskin's son? He's bound to give Pan some trouble then." And Hook thought he almost saw a smile touch upon her lips. He took the moment to pounce.

"Tiger Lily, Tink here says you might be able to help us – talk to Pan, broker a deal to get us off this island."

"So you can get your revenge?" Tiger Lily responded. "Against Rumplestilstkin for murdering your – your Mila?"

"Yes," Hook admitted. "So I have can have my revenge. Mila was my one true love and he took her from me. I know you're probably too young to understand but – "

"No," Tiger Lily said flatly. "I'm not too young to understand." And with those words, her gaze softened and she finally loosened her grip on Smee, who fell to the ground on his knees. "I too had my one true love taken from me, once. A long time ago."

"So you know what it's like to want revenge," Hook said.

"Yes, I do," Tiger Lily replied, furrowing her brow. "But revenge is a funny thing. It's often becomes more complicated than we could ever imagine."

"Well, this is simple. And if you've lost someone, then you know - I must try. And my only shot starts with you bringing me to Pan and speaking with him on my behalf."

Tiger Lily studied the pirate quietly for a few moments. It was impossible to tell what thoughts swam behind her golden eyes.

"Alright," she finally replied. "I will take you to him and see what I can do."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The girl walked back into the Neverland brush, bits of Cyrus's blood splattered on her arms, shirt, legs – even a bit on her face. And her knife – her knife's blade gleamed red. Perhaps most girls her age would have been afraid by the blood. But not her. Her father had brought her on many hunts since she was young enough to aim an arrow. She was his only child and never wanted him to regret not having a son. She killed animals – beautiful, majestic animals – and never cried for the loss of their beauty as she and the others gutted their stomachs and watched the carcasses bleed out. Yes, the creatures had been beautiful in life. But their death also meant beauty – the beauty of a well-fed village, of skins and hides used for clothes, blankets and shelter. Anyone could see beauty in life, but only a warrior could learn to see the beauty in death. She was going to find this Pan the Lost Boys spoke of, this boy who never failed. And she was going to give him a beautiful death.

* * *

><p>The lake glistened in the afternoon sunlight and, dirty from a long hike through the forest and dried blood, the girl couldn't resist its charms. She pulled off her shirt and moccasins, stripped off her pants and left the clothes in a pile next to a cluster of orange flowers dotted with dark spots, before slipping into the silvery water. She dived into the clear pool, letting the water envelope her naked body, her long black hair flowing behind her like a flag in a gentle wind. She would break the surface with her face pointed upward toward the sky, gulping in deep breaths before returning back to the embrace of the water. She wanted to find the lake's bottom. Some of the children she had grown up with had been afraid of the water. Jamik was one of them. It was a fear the girl would never understand. Lakes, rivers – these were sacred places for her. She could swim for hours. The water would wash away her fears and troubles. She could imagine them sinking to the bottom and anchoring themselves into the riverbed.<p>

Finally, after the dirt and blood and pain of the day's earlier events had mostly washed away, the girl headed back toward the shoreline. She emerged from the water wringing out her hair and headed toward her clothes. But when she got to them, she didn't put them on immediately. Instead, she considered her situation.

Her clothes were not only dirty, but also not suited for this island and the tasks that lay before her. She remembered what had happened in the cave the night before and wondered – if she could make food appear, could she also make clean, comfortable clothes appear?

She got down on her knees and closed her eyes, holding her hands above the clothes. She imagined a plain top, sleeveless, made of cotton and a jacket of brown hide to go over it during the cool night. She imagined a pair of brown boots, like the ones Jamik's people wore, to protect her feet and legs from the scratchy brush. And she imagined pants of a thicker material, olive green, like the tree leaves. When the images danced clearly in her head, the girl looked down at the pile of clothes and smiled. She threw the clothes on and stood up.

"Impressive."

The girl swung around. There, leaning against a tree, arms folded, stood a boy. He was not a young boy, but an older one. Perhaps 18 or 17, like her. He had ruddy hair and was dressed in green. His eyebrows were thick and one in particular liked to arch into a question. He wore a dangerous smile.

"How long have you been there?" the girl demanded to know.

The boy unfolded his arms and moved away from the tree.

"You're quite the swimmer," he replied, walking toward her. "Almost like a mermaid, with that long hair." He took a strand of her hair and caressed it between his finger and thumb. The girl pulled away from him.

"Do not touch me, boy. I don't even know your name."

The boy smiled again and the girl realized why his smile was so dangerous – his eyes never matched it. They were clear and green, but there was always something dark behind them.

"Well, if that's all it takes, let's have introductions then," the boy said. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan."

Anger flashed across the girl's golden eyes. "You – you are the boy who never fails."

"That's right," Pan replied. "And you are?"

"It doesn't matter what my name is. That's not for you to know."

Unfazed, Pan replied, "So what am I to call you? Girl?" Again, he smiled that dangerous smile as he circled her like a shark. "That won't do."

He bent down and plucked one of the orange spotted flowers from the ground.

"Do you know what we call this?" Pan asked. The girl simply fixed him with a silent stare, so he continued.

"We call this a tiger lily. I think it's a fitting name for you. You're like a tiger – my boys have certainly never seen anyone quite like you, I can promise you that. And it's pretty – fiery. Two of your better qualities, if I do say so myself. So I'll call you Tiger Lily and now, we're introduced."

Pan stopped in front of the newly name Tiger Lily, twirling the flower in his hand before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot.

"What do you want?" Tiger Lily spat at him.

"Oh, I want us to be friends, partners, if you will."

"I will never be your partner," Tiger Lily replied.

Pan arched an eyebrow and smirked.

"I think I can change your mind. There's nothing like a deal to bring two people together. You see, I don't need to know what you want – I already have it. Jamik."

"He's dead," Tiger Lily replied. She hadn't remembered picking up her knife but now, suddenly, as she thought of it, it was in her hand. Pan noticed this as well.

"He's not dead. He's just – shall we say – indisposed at the moment. But that can change. It all depends on you. You can save him, Tiger Lily. You can save him and you can both go home, with my blessing. I just need a simple favor from you. One, simple favor and then you can go home."

Tiger Lily looked Peter Pan up and down. She recalled what Rufio had said just before she killed Cyrus – _we play games here, girl_. What Pan was doing, what he was offering – this was surely one of those games. But what choice did she have but to play?

"What is this favor?" she finally asked.

Pan smiled and this time, his eyes smiled too. This was the look of true danger.


End file.
